


Unbreakable Sirens

by PoisonKisses



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham City Sirens (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Multi, Poly Sirens, binge watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-02 17:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10949457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonKisses/pseuds/PoisonKisses
Summary: Females are strong as hell.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the premiere of Season 3 of Kimmy Schmidt.
> 
> Also as a reaction to the terrible, awful, no-good, very bad Injustice 2 storyline.
> 
> I refuse to let them break up my Sirens. Nope, not gonna happen.

The Batman wasn’t happy.

The rain wasn’t coming down particularly hard, fortunately. That was the only thing about this chase that was, in fact, fortunate.

Ahead of him, Selina was a slim, flitting, feminine shape, making insane leaps and vaults, the rooftops her playground. She made it look effortless, and as she jumped a gap, using her bullwhip to catch and swing at what was literally the last second (he had to use the magnetic grappler--whipping it off his belt with a muffled curse and losing precious seconds in the process) he reflected that she did this to him on purpose.

The funds raised for Mayoral prospect Ichabod ‘Icky’ Moon were in her cute, little, pink Hello Kitty backpack--she’d robbed the funds bowl right in front of the assemblage while Icky was giving a speech--dangling from the skylight in the roof while the lights were dimmed. She’d blown Bruce Wayne a kiss as she was climbing back out.

He cursed her, not for the first time that evening, as he struggled to gain ground on her.

But, he was also trying not to grin. He’d never admit to it, to her or to anyone else, but he loved these chases. Foreplay, as Selina called them.

So it was with some surprise when he pulled up sharp to find her standing on the roof of an apartment building, thumbs a blur as she tapped out a reply on her phone.

“This ends now, Catwoman!” he growled, modulated voice deep and menacing.

She reached up to move her goggles up, showing her eyes, looked at him, and then rolled them. “Oh, dial it down a notch, Bruce.”

“Hand over the money, you’re spending the night in lockup, Selina. We’ve--” He paused when she started laughing at something on her phone, shooting off another text to whomever she was talking to. “This isn’t funny.” He sounded petulant even to his own ears.

“No, you’re right. Honestly, this whole chase thing is getting boring. You’re slowing down in your old age--I’m tired of doing half speed to make it sporting.” He sputtered and then she upended the backpack, letting stacks of cash tumble onto the rooftop.

She strutted over, hips swaying, and kissed his cheek. “I’m cancelling tomorrow night, we’re bingeing, it’s a girls’ weekend, and I need to pick up some booze.” She turned and took a few running steps toward the building’s edge, but paused.

“Oh, Ivy says you need to switch to decaf,” she said, holding up the glowing screen of her phone.

***

Dougie the snitch was not happy.

He was supposed to stay out of the night-to-night details of the criminals he interacted with. He was an information broker, a guy who had the hook up and could help guys out for a favor here or a fiver there, and he was one of the few guys who knew the delicate system of checks and balances like the back of his hand.

But in Gotham, nothing was ever freakin’ SIMPLE.

He knew his night was going to shit when Harley freakin’ Quinn walked through the door of the dive he was was drinking in, all skimpy leather and brass knuckles, and now? Now the bar was a mass of unconcsious, bloody guys, he was bent over a table with his pants down and she had a paddle--a thick, flat piece of wood with holes drilled in it, like they used to use in high schools or frat houses for punishing problem kids or hazing, respectively--and she was waving it menacingly.

“Now look, Dig Doug, ya gotta understand I don’t wanna hurt ya. I just need ta know who’s takin’ over for Mackie Z, ya know, that pimp we castrated last week. Someone’s runnin’ his business already.”

Dougie winced. “H-hey, Harley, you know I’m always good to you girls, I wouldn’t hold out on you.”

Harley slammed the paddle on the table next to him, and he jumped, his bare butt clenching. “That’s right! Ya always helped us inna past! That’s why I’m confused, Dookie Dougie. I’m hurt. I don’t handle this kinda thing all that well. I’m sensitive.”

“I know, please, Harley.” It was true, the girls had caught the guy and the rumor was they'd removed his junk with a dull, rusty piece of tin for raping underage girls...girls who were part of Great White Shark’s business. He tried to swallow past the terrified lump in his throat. “I have heard some…”

Harley’s phone suddenly went off, the song Love Letter by Giggles playing.

“Oh, hold that thought Duck Dougie Goose, tha love of my life is textin’.” She dropped the paddle on the table and fished her phone out of her pants pocket (and he wasn’t sure how she’d fit anything in those pants...they looked painted on.)

“Oh emm gee, Dougie! It’s THIS weekend! Yer off tha hook, I gotta go get snackage!” She stood him up, gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, leaving a smear of fire engine red lipstick behind, and started off, humming some song. 

Remembering, she turned back and snagged the paddle. “Almost fergot! Wish me luck, Dougie, I might get lucky an’ get Red ta use this on me tonight!”

***

Chirpy was happy.

Mama was working in the lab, and she was singing wordlessly as she did, all the plants around her joining in. Dressed in her lab coat and with goggles on (not that she needed them--she wore them to keep herself focused as Dr. Isley when she was conducting research or experiments.)

Chirpy had started its existence as _Antirrhinum_ , a snapdragon, but that was many generations ago. Now, it was an ambulatory hybrid, able to move and stretch and help Mama in the lab--fetching or holding things with its delicate leaves, petals open like a mouth trying to smile. It had gotten its name from the little chirp like sounds it could make, its version of a bark.

Mama’s phone went off, the screen lighting up, and Chirpy quickly but carefully picked it up, wrapping thin tendrils around it to support its weight and it scurried across the countertops to where Mama was carefully adding drops of formula to a test tube. Patiently, Chirpy waited, having been trained to never interrupt Mama when she was measuring or pouring. When she placed the test tube in a rack, Chirpy stretched, holding the phone up, cradling it with leaves.

“Oh, thank you, sweetie.” She smiled, taking the phone, and giving Chirpy a peck on its petals.

Chirpy’s leaves trembled with pleasure and happiness.

Mama stared at the screen, tapped out a reply, then pursed her perfect, full lips and gave the phone back to Chirpy. She took off her goggles, her lab coat, and stretched.

“Well, looks like no more work this weekend.” Chirpy chirped at her when the phone buzzed again, and she picked it back up. She smiled, muttering, “Honestly, Selina,” her tone exasperated but affectionate, tapped out a reply, and headed for the door back into her living space.

“Hmm, I’m going to need cookie dough and milk…” she mused.

***

The TV was on, the show queued up on Netflix, playing through Harley’s GameStation. She was excited, bouncing up and down in her Sailor Moon sweat pants and a spaghetti strap top that said, “What, me, worry?” It was paused, and the controller was sitting right there. Tempting her. Singing a siren song (HA, siren, geddit?! Her inner monologue supplied) asking her to push the button.

“Hurry up guys, I'm ready ta push play!” She couldn’t sit still.

“Settle down, Harleen. We're coming, we're coming. Trying to get some more popcorn popped. SOMEone ate the first bowl already,” groused Selina from the kitchen.

Ivy sat next to her, crossing her ridiculously long legs, handing Harley a watermelon margarita, and then kissing her neck. Harley fought her grin, her skin turning into a mass of goosebumps.

“Seriously sweet pea, it's not going anywhere. It's on Netflix after all.” She smiled, her luscious lips looking very dark red from her own cranberry drink. Harley pouted.

“Yeah yeah I know, I've just waited so long!”

Selina vaulted the couch and landed lightly on Ivy’s other side, placing the bowl of freshly popped corn into Ivy’s lap, tossed a bite into her mouth. She leaned over and rested her head on Ivy’s shoulder to make herself comfortable. Harley dug a handful of her own out as Ivy put her arm around her. “OK, all set, we have booze, we have snacks, we're ready to go. You don’t have to pee, right Harls?” Selina asked.

“Nope! I’m good. Yay!” She hit the play button. “Here it comes,” she said excitedly, and as the theme began, started to sing. “‘Unnnnnn breakable!’”

Ivy laughed, rolling her eyes. “Must you sing it every time, peanut?”

Selina, who was already a little drunk, failed to suppress her giggles. “Have you met her?”

Ivy laughed, her rare, legitimate, warm laugh, and Harley smiled her huge smile as Ivy squeezed her shoulders. Ivy tapped Selina’s drink with her own. “Truth.”

“Oh come on, sing it with me kitty cat! ‘Unnnnn breakable!’” she pointed at Selina.

Selina was resigned to her fate, knew better than to oppose Hurricane Harley. “‘They alive damn it!’”

Harley was bouncing again. “Ivy… Ya gotta jump in here!”

Ivy shook her head. “I have to do no such thing.”

Selina was trying to take a drink, giggle, and talk all at once. “Oh don't be such a party pooper!”

Indignant, Ivy fired back, “I'm not a party pooper!”

Harley laughed. “Oh, you so are. Please?” Trying a different tactic, she leaned her head on Ivy’s arm, giving her epic puppy dog eyes, pouty lip.

“Oh, she’s doing the eyes,” laughed Selina. “Ivy, you monster!” She then fluttered her lashes. “Yeah, Ivy, pwease?”

Ivy gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh. “Oh, very well.”

Harley cheered, then began to sing again, completely off key, “‘Unnnnn breakable!’”

Selina was a little late, and very flat, but she chimed in. “They alive damn it!”

Ivy finished up. “Females are strong as hell!”


	2. 7th Wave Feminism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Pizza just won't do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the brilliant Mary and her picture of Ivy drinking a soda.

With a loud thump, Poison Ivy fell off the couch, laughing. Her face was actually red, and she was gasping, trying to breathe.

Selina was giggling, precariously gesturing with her glass of wine, and Ivy's fall made her throw back her head and howl with laughter. 

Harley was trying not to choke as she chewed Cheetos, and she swallowed, through the giggles, and asked, "Oh my God, Red, are ya ok?"

Ivy couldn't answer, still gasping, but she motioned at the screen, choked out, "Pause it..."

Selina fumbled with the controller, finally getting the show to stop. Ivy managed to calm down enough to say, "7th wave feminism," and then collapsed into laughter again.

Harley upended the now empty bag. "Ok, I'm hungry. We need food."

Selina shook her head. "I think between the three of us, we've eaten like forty pizzas this weekend. I don't know if I can do another." She was slurring her words, adorably, and Ivy used her body to crawl up to a sitting position.

Harley hmm'd, putting a finger to her lips, her lipstick smeared from a heavy makeout session earlier. "Awright then, let's go get--" She jumped to her feet, pooching her middle out in a vain attempt to give herself a tummy and sang, to the tune of the commercials, "BIG BELLAH BURGAH!"

"They are open 24 hours," Ivy pointed out.

"I am WAY too drive to drunk, Palema Isulleee," Selina shot back, butchering both her name and the statement.

"So you're saying I'm DD again?" Ivy said, rolling her eyes.

Harley pounced on her. "Welllll, ya GOTS the DDs!" Groping and giggling. Selina fell onto her back laughing.

"It's funny cuz you have big titties, Ives!"

"A fact that's been well established. FIIIIINE!" She rolled her eyes dramatically, depositing Harley on the couch next to Selina. "But we're taking your car, and we're just going through the drive-through. NO PLAYING IN THE KIDS AREA!" 

Somehow, the three made it to the parking garage and piled into Selina's cherry red convertible. Since it was still raining, they put the top up and roared into the Gotham night, angling toward the nearest Big Belly Burger.

Harley was handsy, still giggling about Ivy's chest and freely groping, with Selina in the back seat singing the jingle at the top of her lungs:

Come on in!  
Switch off the Telly!  
Have a seat  
Enjoy a Big Belly!

A big beef patty  
Some veggies and then  
Special sauce!  
It's gotta be sin!

Ya gotta have a  
Big...ba dum da dum  
BELLY...ba dumpety dum da dum  
BURGERRRRRR!

They were swerving as Ivy was slapping Harley's hands away, shrieking, "You're violating my bodily autonomy, Harley, you didn't fill out the consent form!" and giggling uncontrollably, when blue lights appeared in the mirror.

"Oh no!" Harley cried. "It's the coppers! Step on it Pam!"

"They'll never take us alive, we're going out like Thelma and Louise! and, uhm, Rachel!"

Ivy was confused. "Who's Rachel?" Harley was balled up in the passenger seat, face in her hands, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.

"I don't know, don't ask me these things. Damn it Ivy, I'm a Thief not a TV Critic!" 

As Ivy pulled over, Harley was shrieking, "Oh no, we're goin' ta jail. Beam me up Scooty!"

"It's Scotty you dumb dumb!" Selina supplied.

"Oh? That's why that fucker never beams me up! Sorry Scotty!"

"You mean fudger, Harley. Gosh Darn Mother Fudger!" Selina yelled. Ivy started shushing them.

"Both of you be quiet, I need to talk my way out of this." She quickly unbuttoned the top two buttons on her shirt and hitched her ample breasts up, making a shelf of creamy cleavage. Harley was dying again. "Oh my God, our DD is usin' her DDs!"

"Please. Like I'm just a...you know what, never mind. I'm about to use my 7th wave feminist empowerment." She was giggling. Selina wolf whistled from the back seat.

She rolled the window down and the young Gotham cop was bending over, shining his flashlight in at the laughing women, but his eyes immediately focused on Ivy's display.

"I...uh..."

"Is there a problem officer?" Ivy asked, false sweetness. In the back seat, Selina had her hand stuffed in her mouth to keep from laughing.

"You ladies...were...swerving." He managed, unable to look away.

"Well, we'll be more careful, we're free to go?" Ivy prompted. The guy nodded slowly.

"Have a good night...ladies."

As they pulled out, Harley was clutching Ivy's arm. "Hey, he was a cutie...go back an' get his numbah!"

"Oh no, no breaking anymore cops, Harleen Quinzel." 

"Oh, she used the full name, you're in trouble, Harley," Selina cried from the back seat.

Harley pouted, crossing her arms, flouncing. "I nevah get ta have any fun."

They pulled in and against her better judgement, Ivy parked while Harley and Selina stormed the restaurant.

She knew their order by heart. "Mega Belly Triple with added bacon and an Extra Large Mountain Dew, a Fish Belly Combo with extra tartar sauce and a Diet Dr. Pepper, and I'll have a Veggie Belly Combo with..." she paused. Harley and Selina stopped and stared, confused at the change. "You know what, a Mega sized Coke, please."

"Ivy, you're getting a soda?" Harley was amazed.

"You feelin' ok, Ives?" Selina asked.

"I want to see what all the fuss is about," Ivy replied, maybe a little defensively. Then they were piling back in the car, hitting the road, heading home for more Kimmy. Selina and Harley were singing to the radio, and Ivy was drinking her soda.

When it slurped as she finished it, Ivy swerved back toward the bypass. "Ya finished it, Red?" Ivy nodded.

"I'm grabbing a refill before we go home." Selina opened her mouth to say something.

"Don't drink shame me, Selina!" Ivy cried, and the other two devolved into giggles.


End file.
